


Dusk til Dawn

by koganeisms (reiirae)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mutual Attraction, Punk Band Au, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 06:59:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13676610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reiirae/pseuds/koganeisms
Summary: My gift for Mila in the Sheithlentines Exchange! Happy V-Day





	Dusk til Dawn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dimplelegacy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimplelegacy/gifts).



The concept of fame had seemed so far-fetched to Keith when he was younger. The idea of people being adored by the masses, treated specially, always talked about and photographed going about their daily business. Initially, he’d hated the idea. Somebody following him around, making it impossible to do anything without the whole world knowing about it? No, thanks. 

He found his passion for music in high school. If Keith were completely honest, he would never have even considered trying out for a school musical - never in a million years. But Lance was just too damn convincing, and so he found himself at the auditions for a show he barely cared about. And when he sang, he surprised himself. The sound that came out was not the strangled, odd noise he expected. Instead he found his voice to be pleasant, somewhat sonorous, and a few weeks later he found he’d landed a small singing part. 

Of course, he never delved any further into theatre after that one school show, although he can’t deny he enjoyed the experience. Keith did learn a few things, however, and one of those things was that he had a voice. And a good one, at that. He continued to sing long after the show, all the way until he had to think about college applications.

Keith had sat hunched over his computer for hours at a time, debating a future in mathematics or music. Maths was safe - he was good at it, and the promise of a stable career called to him. But music was something he loved, something he wished he could do every day. 

Eventually he sent applications to two different music colleges. And he practised religiously for those auditions, going through his pieces and theory books every single night. There was no way he’d let anything stop him.

But life doesn’t usually work out quite how you want it to. And so Keith found himself staring at a rejection email, tears threatening to spill over only weeks after his auditions. Disbelief and anger coursed through his mind - he’d done everything he possibly could’ve, and still he didn’t get selected. 

Things weren’t too awful, though. Lance wasn’t picked either, meaning they could at least spend their gap year together. Lance convinced him to try again next year, see what happens. The pair rented a small apartment together close to the city centre, both finding part-time retail jobs fairly quickly.

And for the next year Keith did nothing but work and sing. Some nights he’d perform at clubs to try and get his name a little more recognised, doing small gigs to half-drunk crowds. It helped pay the bills, if nothing else. Lance was nothing but supportive, occasionally accompanying Keith on his electric guitar. He learnt to play bass guitar while he sung, and they made a pretty good duo. 

Auditions rolled around fast. Keith and Lance had both sent applications in the day they opened, although Keith had only selected one school this year, before wishing each other best of luck on the audition day and disappearing to their individual waiting areas. Keith could remember the anxiety bubbling in his chest as he played with his sheets of music, fixed the collar of his jacket for the sixteenth time, glanced anxiously at the slowly ticking clock on the wall.

The actual audition, however, was a blur. He came out breathless, pleased with his performance but still anxious to hear his fate. He’d waited outside until Lance appeared, a smile plastered across his face. Keith was silent on the drive home, but Lance made up for that by babbling about various irrelevant topics. Keith was just too agitated to join in.

When the email arrived in his inbox, Keith didn’t dare to open it for several hours. He left it there, bright red notification catching his eye every time he unlocked his phone, hoping it’d disappear without him opening the email. Eventually he built up the courage, and he had to reread the email several times before he could truly believe it.

He’d done it. He’d been offered a place on the exact course he wanted. Keith couldn’t help but scream with joy, drawing the attention of his roommate. Lance had been overjoyed at the news, hugging Keith tightly and yelling over and over how proud he was. But Keith could see deep down Lance was anxious - no matter how many times he refreshed his inbox, nothing came. 

It was a few days later when something came to Lance’s inbox - a rejection from the school Keith had successfully gotten into. The boy was devastated, and Keith wished he could do something to take away the hurt from his friend. He wasn’t sure he could manage music school without the Cuban boy by his side, and briefly considered passing up the place. He ended that idea when he realised it would likely make Lance even more unhappy than he already was.

Lance, however, applied to two schools that year. And so weeks after his initial rejection, the second school contacted him. Not only did they offer the boy a place, they offered him a scholarship to go with it. Lance had cried with happiness, letting out all the pent up frustration and anger alongside his newfound joy and excitement.

The only bad thing was that the two would be in completely different cities. They could still visit each other, but they wouldn’t see each other as regularly. They departed tearfully, swearing to keep in contact from across cities.

They did, and successfully too. Lance moved in with a guy named Hunk, who quickly became a close friend. He was no replacement for Keith, though, and Lance made sure to let Keith know he was still just as important. Keith met Pidge, an incredibly smart girl who’d ditched a career in science to pursue her true passion - piano. He also grew friendly with the girl’s brother, Matt, and his boyfriend, Shiro. 

Keith and Lance made sure to visit each other as frequently as possible, though, keeping their friendship alive despite the distance. Keith would always be grateful for Lance - the boy would do anything for him, and he’d do anything for Lance. 

When they graduated, neither of them knew what to do. Pidge had plans to take Matt’s old apartment in the capital, inviting Keith to join her. Keith had been hesitant on the idea, remembering his promise to Lance during their second year that once they’d graduated, they’d move back in together. However, upon seeing the sheer size of the apartment, Keith suggested Lance and Hunk should move in with them.

The four of them quickly became fast friends; understandably, considering the amount of time they spent together on a daily basis. They all kept up individual music careers - Lance played electric guitar, Keith sang and played bass guitar, Hunk played drums, and Pidge played piano. 

It wasn’t until maybe six months into their new living arrangement that Hunk had his brilliant idea. He gathered the small group together and suggested the formation of a band - they all played instruments that complimented each other, and had similar music tastes, after all. The three couldn’t help but see the potential, agreeing to the idea quickly and beginning to draft ideas.

The start of their career wasn’t glamorous, and Keith would never forget those first few years. The band snapped up any opportunity that came their way, from performing to an audience of three drunk men to a popular club one night.

They didn’t get their big break, as it’s so often called, until they hired Shiro as their official manager. The man had gone into management shortly after ditching his own musical career, and Pidge had been quick to reach out to her old friend. After listening to a few samples of their music, Shiro had agreed to let them try out for the agency he worked for, and soon they had an agent and manager.

It was Shiro who got them the job with Allura. The woman was one of the most popular singers to date - sold-out tours, platinum albums, a clothing line - Allura had it all and more. So when she went on tour for her third album, Shiro managed to get the band in as one of the opening acts. All of them were over the moon at the news - particularly Lance, who could never deny his celebrity crush on the singer. 

The tour was a dream, and it was really how their band, now officially named Voltron, began to make a name for themselves. Allura had been exceptionally kind to them, despite rumours of a diva attitude, and her tour was really the catalyst for their success today.

The idea of fame grew on Keith as the years passed by, and he slowly became more aware of how good it could actually be for him and his bandmates if they became famous. Keith had always written his lyrics from experience, from his feelings, from his life. It made for some pretty depressing stuff, frankly, but he was surprised at just how many people related to his lyrics. 

Voltron’s following gradually grew, particularly after their first album release and tour. Keith had been taken aback by the packed-out venues and mile-long lines of fans waiting impatiently to meet him and his bandmates.

And now here he was, curled in the corner of the plush sofa on their tour bus. It was late evening now, and Lance was lazily flipping through channels in an attempt to find something interesting to watch. He was barely paying attention, really - he was probably tired out from the fan signing they’d finished only an hour or so prior. 

“You doing okay, guys?” a voice asked from behind him, belonging to no other than Pidge. Keith made a small affirmative noise, and Lance nodded limply. “God, you’re both so out of it.” she commented, perching on the edge of the sofa. “Go get some sleep, both of you.”

“Not tired.” Lance mumbled, finally moving his head to focus on Pidge. “Just recovering. There’s only so many screaming fan a guy can take.”

The small girl rolled her eyes, flicking the side of Lance’s head. “Don’t be so high and mighty about it.” she chided.

There was a laugh from the doorway, and Keith looked up briefly to meet eyes with their manager, Shiro. “You better rest up, Lance, you have another meet and greet tomorrow morning.” he added, smiling softly at Keith. “You look exhausted, Keith.” 

“I am.” he replied simply, sitting up fully and crossing his legs underneath himself. “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me.”

“If you’re sure. Make sure you get enough rest. I don’t want any of you getting sick - you know how fans get when we have to cancel shows.” Shiro murmured, avoiding Keith’s gaze.

Keith shuddered, his eyes meeting the floor. They’d only ever had to cancel one show in their career, luckily, when Keith had gotten tonsillitis right at the end of their first tour. He couldn’t help but feel guilty for letting down his fans and his band. Shiro had reassured him that he couldn’t help it, and his fans would be happier if he rested and got better instead of straining through a show. After that incident, Keith had sworn to take better care of himself on tour and never let that happen again.

He didn’t stay awake much longer, listening to Lance and Pidge idly bicker about the pointless reality show they’d settled on. Shiro had left to go organise some finances, and Hunk had gone to sleep almost an hour since, leaving the trio the only people awake. Keith felt himself dropping off shortly after Shiro left the room, and after about half an hour of starting to fall asleep before being awoken by Lance’s sudden outbursts, he got up and walked to the small bedroom he shared with Shiro. The room was empty, and so Keith clambered into bed without bothering to change. 

When he thought about it, he’d been seeing less and less of Shiro recently. Maybe it was just the amount of organisation a tour required keeping him busy, but even when they were on the road Shiro seemed to be less present. At the venues, he’d disappear off backstage to help with something or other, rarely engaging with the band. It almost felt as though Shiro had become strangely distant, and Keith couldn’t quite put his finger on a reason why the man would separate himself from the rest of the band. He’d never expressed any dislike towards his position, after all - it made no sense to Keith at all. Maybe he’d ask him sometime.

It wasn’t long until Keith fell asleep, and much later on Shiro returned the room. His eyes landed on Keith’s resting figure in the darkness, and he couldn’t help the smile that crept across his features. The boy was beautiful even in sleep, curled up on one side of the tiny bunk, a peaceful expression upon his face. He couldn’t understand how anyone didn’t have feelings for him, and those feelings were what kept Shiro away from Keith. He couldn’t do that to Keith - if the paparazzi caught Keith and Shiro together in any kind of compromising manner, the boy’s career would be doomed. Manager and celebrity relationships never ended well, anyway. 

So he kept his distance, afraid to accidentally reveal his feelings if he was around the boy too much. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could convince his mind he never felt anything for the small male. But as his eyes fell on the sleeping boy, he knew he’d never be able to forget how he felt for the boy, even he tried for the rest of his life. Maybe if they’d been born in a different time, it would’ve been possible. If Keith wasn’t shooting for world fame. If Shiro wasn’t in charge of helping Keith get there.

Before he knew it, the sun was rising and they were on the move again. He had no idea what time they’d started driving, but the steady motion of the tour bus wasn’t what woke him up. It was the movements of Keith getting up. He pretended to be asleep still as he watched the boy pull a sweatshirt over his head, run his fingers through his hair in a vague attempt to tidy it up a little, stretch his arms and legs. After about ten minutes of watching, Shiro sat up, smiling down at his friend. “Morning, Keith. You sleep well?” he asked, stretching his arms.

“Mm. Yeah. What time did you go to sleep?” the boy asked distractedly, scrolling through his unanswered emails. 

“Around midnight. I had a fair bit of papaerwork to do.” he lied, the smile never leaving his face. It was half true, he corrected internally - the sheer amount of unread emails Keith had was out of this world. “It’s a good job you have me, considering how bad you are at answering your emails.” 

“Half of it’s just spam. This is my personal email, anyway. My business one is your responsibility.” Keith replied, putting his phone down and leaning against the frame of his bed. “You should really hang out with us more. I know you’re busy, but I feel like I barely see you anymore. Surely you get _some_ free time, right?”

Shiro didn’t let his surprise show on his face, although he couldn’t help he shocked Keith had noticed his quiet withdrawal from the group. He figured the nosiness that they created would cover up his sudden disappearance, but Keith was more perceptive than he’d first guessed. “Uh, yeah. I’ll try and work something out so I can hang out more.” he replied, ensuring the shock stayed out of his voice. “It’s just busy work, sorting out and checking all our arrangements for the tour.”

“I get it. Don’t skip anything important, okay? Do what you gotta do.” Keith replied, smiling affectionately at his manager. “We just miss you, Shiro.”

“I miss you guys too.” Shiro murmured, and for the first time this conversation he realised what he said was truthful. He couldn’t deny how lonely it was, sat in his office pretending to check the hotel details he’d already read and reread, able to hear the band laughing and shouting without him. But he couldn’t take any kind of risks around Keith - if he confessed, he might lose his job; he had no idea how Keith felt about him. He probably had no romantic feelings for Shiro anyway.

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice Keith leave the room, and once he came back to reality he found himself wandering into the main living area. Lance was perched on the sofa, waving a slice of toast at Hunk, who’d taken to completely ignoring his friend. “Morning, guys.” Shiro smiled, earning a wave from Hunk.

“Good morning, Shiro,” Lance chimed, swallowing a mouthful of toast before continuing. “How are you?”

Shiro smiled appreciatively at his friend, “I’m alright. You guys ready for another meet and greet?” he asked.

“Yup. This one’s a smaller venue, right?” Hunk piped up, frowning slightly. 

“Yeah. We’re not expecting to be there much longer than three hours.” Shiro answered, sitting down beside Lance. “Besides, we need to get to venue for soundcheck in good time.”

“Good point,” Hunk mused, resting his chin on th back of his hands. “Well, I guess I better go start getting ready. Make sure you eat something, Shiro.”

“I will.” he promised, standing up to walk into the small kitchenette. And of all the people to be perched on the sideboard, sat Keith Kogane. He cursed internally on the sight, feigning a weak smile as he met the boy’s eyes. “Hey, Keith.”

The boy nodded in greeting, before offering a plate of toast to Shiro. “Take whatever you want. Pidge went a little overboard.” he muttered, picking at the crust of his own slice. 

“Thanks.” Shiro responded, grabbing a plate and loading two slices onto it. He leaned on the counter across from Keith, trying to avoid eye contact. 

“So. Busy day today, huh?” Keith murmured, causing Shiro to look up and smile weakly.

“Yep. You feeling ready?” 

“Kinda. I always get nervous before meet and greets, though,” Keith confessed, sighing softly. “You know I’m not the most sociable person. I can only take so much smiling and hugging before I want to curl up and sleep.”

“I know. But you have a show tonight, and that’s always something you enjoy, right?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love meeting my fans. They got me here, after all,” Keith admitted, shaking his head. “I just get overwhelmed when I see them all, and hear all the screaming.”

Shiro nodded understandingly, smiling warmly at him. “I get it, Keith. You’re good with the fans anyway.”

“I try my best.” Keith murmured, returning Shiro’s smile shyly. “Anyway, I should really go get ready. I gotta look good for my fans.”

“Of course. I’ll see you later, Keith.”

Keith nodded, slowly walking out the room. He nodded at Lance and Hunk as he left, making his way back to his tiny bedroom slowly. Keith was nowhere near as fussy as Lance when it came to his appearance - the boy had a full skincare routine that he stuck to religiously, for God’s sake - and usually he could get away with running a brush through his hair and applying a tiny flick of eyeliner. 

Shiro’s behaviour distracted him as he got ready, though. There was still something off about the man, even after the conversation they’d had last night, and it bothered Keith. He’d find out what was bothering his manager if it killed him - Shiro wasn’t usually like this at all, so it had to be big deal. 

Throwing on his jacket, Keith walked back into the main living. Only Pidge was there now, idly scrolling through her phone as she munched on a piece of toast. “Yo, Keith,” she smiled, voice muffled by food. 

“Hey, Pidge. Didn’t realise you hadn’t eaten.” 

“Yeah. I made breakfast, and then I realised I should really get dressed before Lance hogs the bathroom for two hours.” she explained, rolling her eyes. “You don’t understand how long he can spend on that damn face regime.”

Keith snorted, shaking his head. “Trust me, I know. We lived together for years.” 

“I don’t know how you did it. He drives me insane sometimes.” she replied, shaking her head.

“He’s annoying, but he’s a good guy.” Keith replied.

“I’ll give him that,” Pidge agreed, finishing her toast and brushing a few stray crumbs from her lap. “Anyway, Shiro said we’ll be in the city by 12, and it’s quarter to now. I hope Hunk and Lance are almost ready.” 

“It doesn’t matter if they are or not, we have a schedule to follow.” Keith muttered, throwing himself onto the sofa beside Pidge. “I swear, if we’re late because Lance didn’t have time to apply his sixteenth face cream, I am not gonna be happy.”

“Relax, I’m all ready,” Lance’s voice replied, and Keith looked up to see him leaning against the wall. “I have to look as gorgeous as ever for all my adoring fans.” Keith rolled his eyes and shook his head at Lance, who huffed dramatically before pushing off the wall. “No need to be so cruel, Keith. I’m wounded.”

“Cry me a river, Lance.” Keith shot back, curling into the sofa cushions again. Hunk joined them shortly, and finally Shiro appeared in the living room. 

“Okay, we’re almost in the city,” Shiro began, glancing across the faces of each member. “We’ll be dropped right outside the venue, and I can guarantee fans have been queueing all morning, which means we don’t have much set up time. I’ve been told all the tables and ropes have been sorted in advance, so you guys need to hand your stuff to security as fast as possible and be in your seats within ten minutes so we can start letting people in. I don’t wanna keep fans waiting too long - you know how bad impatient fans can be.” All four of them slowly nodded, every set of eyes trained on their manager. “I’ll be around should anything happen, and there’s plenty of security too.”

“Doesn’t sounds too bad.” Pidge mused, crossing her arms. “Nothing we haven’t done before, right?”

Lance laughed, nodding his assent. “Thanks, Shiro. I don’t know where we’d be without you.”

“Probably not very far,” Hunk chimed in, smiling sheepishly at their manager. “We’re not exactly the most capable when it comes to organisation.” 

“He’s got a point.” Keith raised an eyebrow, looking directly at Shiro. He didn’t miss the man avoiding eye contact, instead gazing off into the distance. He couldn’t help but narrow his eyes at Shiro’s behaviour, although he quickly regained his composure as the bus pulled to a halt. “Looks like we’re here.”

“Yep. Get your most camera-worthy smiles ready!” Lance cheered, already beaming in excitement. He led the way off the bus, waving and blowing kisses to fans the second he was in sight. Pidge followed behind, smiling and waving, and Hunk brought up the rear alongside Keith. Shiro was joined by a pair of security guards a few feet behind the band as they walked up the short flight of stairs into the building. The sound of fans screaming their names was deafening, and Keith couldn’t wait to be into a quieter environment.

The meet and greet passed in a blur. It was always a whirlwind of signing and hugging and taking photos, and consoling the occasional sobbing fan - nothing the group couldn’t handle. As much as the screaming and volume of people overwhelmed Keith at the best of times, he would never grow tire of meeting fans individually. Knowing that these people supported what he loved the most, and possibly even inspiring them to do what they love, was a feeling Keith lived for. He was sure his bandmates felt the same, too, considering the genuine excitement Lance showed, the kindness in Hunk’s tone when he was calming down hysterical fans, the softness in Pidge’s expression when she signed things. All of them thrived on these experiences, and Keith knew it.

They never tended to do very much after the meet and greet, usually opting to set up backstage leisurely prepare themselves for the evening show. Everyone was worn out from several hours of meeting fans, and so they settled into a quiet hum of occasional conversation. Keith was too focused on perfecting his hair to talk too much, only speaking up once to give his opinion on Lance’s makeup. Shiro’s behaviour was still weighing on his mind, anyway, and if it continued like this he’d never be able to perform his best show. 

He exhaled loudly, slouching back into his seat. There was no way he could get Shiro to simply tell him what’s bothering him - Keith knew he’d just deny his odd behaviour and try to brush off the singer’s concern. The only way to make him talk would be to force him, Keith resolved. And the best way to do that would be to completely ignore him until he cracked. 

As calltime drew closer, Keith found himself perched on the corner of a table backstage, listening distantly to the support act warming up. Lance was chattering with one of the band members, and the other two were nowhere in sight - until Shiro entered the room, with their remaining bandmates in tow. 

“Hey, guys. You all feeling ready for tonight?” Shiro asked, glancing around the room.

“Yep! We got this.” Lance chimed, heading over to join his bandmates. “You guys feeling good?”

“Nervous, but we’ll be fine.” Hunk admitted. 

Keith rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, making a point out of facing away and making small talk with one of the support act’s members. He could hear his own conversing quietly in the background, but he was serious about getting the truth out of Shiro, he couldn’t turn around and walk over now. 

It wasn’t long before Shiro approached him, trying to pull him away. “Hey, Keith, you feeling okay?” he asked, tilting his head to one side. Keith didn’t respond, turning his face away from Shiro. The manager tried to grip his chin and make him look up, but Keith resisted. “Keith, what’s going on?” he asked worriedly.

Keith didn’t mean to crack, but he couldn’t help but answer that question, “You.” he mumbled, shaking his head.

Shiro’s expression became puzzled, and he finally managed to gently pull Keith face to face with him. “I don’t know what you mean, Keith.” 

“You’ve been acting weird for weeks. I know you’ll try and pretend everything’s normal, but we both know that’s not true.” Keith blurted, eyes widening. “I-I’m sorry, Shiro, I’m just...worried about you.”

“I…” Shiro began, his grip tightening on Keith’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, Keith. I didn’t mean to worry you.” he mumbled. “I’m probably going to sound stupid if I tell you why I’ve been avoiding you.” 

Keith frowned, noticing the support band shuffling off towards the stairs up to the stage. “I don’t care. I wanna know.” he demanded, crossing his arms authoritatively. 

Shiro hesitated for a few moments, looking anywhere but into Keith’s eyes, before letting out a resigned sigh and meeting his’s eyes. “I...I’ve been avoiding you all because...I’ve had feelings for you for a long time. But I didn’t want to risk your career for my own feelings.” he confessed, eyes meeting the floor. 

The raven-haired boy felt his eyes widen in shock at his manager’s words, biting his bottom lip. “You...you have a thing for me?” Keith murmured, to which Shiro answered with a minute nod. “But Shiro, you didn’t have to avoid us-“

“I did. I can’t put your career in jeopardy because I like you, can I?” Shiro defended, sighing again. “We can’t be together, and I understand that.”

“We can.” Keith replied, looking back up at Shiro with determination shining in his eyes. “How would that ruin my career at all?”

“If the paparazzi find out it could ruin things for you!” Shiro exclaimed, gently taking hold of Keith’s shoulders. “Not just your career, but the whole band.”

“And? People date their managers all the time.” Keith retorted, frowning up at the man.

Shiro shook his head, sadness clear in his eyes. “I want to say yes, Keith, but...what if our relationship destroyed your reputation?”

“What’s the point in a reputation if you’re unhappy?” Keith shot back.

There was silence for a few moments where the pair just stared at each other, before Shiro finally spoke up. “Are you sure, Keith?”

“Absolutely.”

Shiro paused again, holding Keith’s gaze. “If you’re interested...I’d like to take you out sometime.” Shiro murmured, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

The singer laughed softly, reaching up to wrap his arms around Shiro’s shoulders. “I’d love to. But I’ve got a show do.” he replied, giggling softly before dashing off to join the band.

“Break a leg!” Shiro yelled, giving the band a thumbs up. They all replied with various shouts of thanks, slowly making their ways up the metal stairs to stand backstage. 

Shiro didn’t go up to watch until the support act where back and calmed down from the adrenaline of their act, and he found himself hanging around in the wings for the rest of the show - usually he’d have disappeared off to attend to other business by now. He couldn’t take his eyes off Keith - his Keith, now - and he could feel his heart pounding with excitement. It was risky, and it was putting both of their careers on the line, but Keith had a point. They were happier this way.


End file.
